


Little Love

by Thatskasterborous



Series: Where Your Heart Lies [2]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Character Death, F/M, How Thranduil lost his wife, Loss of Spouse, Orcs, Violence, loss of a child
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-06
Updated: 2019-09-06
Packaged: 2020-10-10 21:54:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20535206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thatskasterborous/pseuds/Thatskasterborous
Summary: I’m on my knees praying but no one hears a word I’m sayingI’m crying to the skies aboveAll I need is a little loveI see my soul flying, alone and it’s terrifying.It was the worst night of Thranduil's life. In one fell swoop his life was torn apart. He lost more than just his wife on that dreaded night.This is the story of how Thranduil lost his wife. It is a part of my Where Your Heart Lies fanfiction. Though it can be read on its own





	Little Love

**Little Love**

_ I’m on my knees praying but no one hears a word I’m saying _

_ I’m crying to the skies above _

_ All I need is a little love _

_ I see my soul flying, alone and it’s terrifying _

_ Crying to the skies above _

_ All I need is a little love _

Thranduil (1441-TA, Greenwood the Great)

Thranduil was a happy elf. 

Even through the hardships his people had faced in recent years. Namely the loss of their former home in Amon Lanc. A once prosperous elven city that his father had ruled over for many years. It had been the primary settlement for all woodland elves. 

When the mantle of kingship had fallen to him, he had wanted to bring stability to his people. Be the ruler they needed in such trying times. However, they had been forced to flee when a dark force had crept inside. Of orcs, necromancers and other dark creatures. They had fled north until they came upon a great mountain deep within the forest. It would stand to be their greatest protection against their new threat from the east. 

His people carved out a new home here and called it the Elven-King’s halls. For he was the one who had led them to it. They kept the darkness at bay and forged a new life.

He feared he would not have been capable of all of this, if it had not been for his dear wife. Elinneth. She was his starlight when all other lights were shadowed. Always a beacon of hope. It was her spirit and her light that had gotten him through the moving of his kingdom. If not, also, for her skills in diplomacy, organisation and delegation. It was through her, that the kingdom had grown so fast. She could run this kingdom with her eyes closed. Sometimes he joked that he was not needed. Elinneth would give him a ‘look’ and tell him that many things were not possible without him.

It was because of her that he was happy. Her and his beloved children.

So few elves had ever been blessed with the gift of twins. He praised Eru everyday for providing him with such a gift. They were Legolas and Liriel, a son and a daughter. Even though they were both begotten at the same point, his son, Legolas, was the first to be born. A fact that he liked to lord over his sister as often as possible. To him, he was her big brother. If only by a quarter of an hour.

They provided him great joy. Thranduil was so proud of them when they learned something new. Even though he was often drowning in work-it took a lot to run a kingdom after all- he still found time to be with them. He wished to be the one that taught them valuable skills and life lessons. His favourite lessons had been fighting. Thranduil was not a modest elf, he knew his skills far outmatched most. So it brought him great joy to pass those skills onto his children. As soon as they were big enough to hold a bow, he began to teach them. 

Legolas took to it straight away. He spent long hours teaching his son the finer points of archery. It was with great pride that he saw his son hit target after target. Even at such a young age his boy seemed a natural. Liriel was less so, much to her chagrin. It was often a topic of dispute between the two of them. The two bickered a lot more than normal elven siblings but that was mainly due to their age. Most elven siblings had at least 100 years between them so the older one would show more care towards the younger. Whereas Legolas and Liriel were the same age, their bond was completely different.

Liriel had her own skills. What she lacked in fighting, she made up for in the healing arts. Her naneth had been so proud when it seemed that Liriel would follow in her footsteps. Elinneth had been a great healer before she was queen. It was also how he met her. She had been the one to tend to his wounds when he had been injured in battle. He had tried to use his position as prince to get her to overlook his injuries: so that he could go back out and fight. However, she had none of it. She didn’t treat him any differently and had been rather defiant. Forcing him back onto the healing table. He had fallen hard for her almost instantly.

Liriel’s skills in healing had been a surprise. Usually the abilities did not manifest until an elf had fully grown. Around the age of 50. It took a great deal of discipline and power to develop the gift of healing. Years of training were required before an elf would be able to heal a wound. Yet Liriel had managed it at the mere age of 19. Barely half the size of a full grown elf but she had accomplished it with ease. 

It had been Elinneth who had first seen it. They were both in the gardens. Liriel had, very energetically, asked for own garden. To plant whatever she saw fit. Normally the space was taken up by crops but they had managed to find her a place for her own personal garden. She had been rather disappointed when the first flower she planted did not take to the soil. Its leaves had browned and the buds remained closed. Elinneth had wanted to console her but found that she didn’t need to. Liriel had simply called upon her healing powers and willed the plant back to health. We were shocked to say the least. A power as great as that was seldom gifted.

So Liriel’s garden had flourished. She had poured her power into the roots of every plant in it. That meant that they would bloom for as long as she lived. Even in the dead of winter. It was rather spectacular when the snows came and the flowers were still flourishing. Bright colours of red, yellow and purple stark against the white of the snow. It brought him great joy to stand within his daughters creation.

His children were now 25. By the years of men they would have long passed the point of adulthood. However they were still half the size they would be. Elves finished growing when they reached 50 and were only considered of age once they passed their 100th year. Though he dare say that they were smarter than any 25 year old man he had met. They were his children after all.

He was sat at his desk, making the final preparations for his journey, when the door opened. Two pale haired bundles charged their way into his office. Legolas got to him first and jumped up at his left side. Liriel then swung around and jumped at his right. He just about managed to drop his pen and catch the two miscreants. He moved them so that he had ne on each leg. They were giggling as they made their attack. 

The sight of them made his heart soar and a huge grin spread across his face.

“Ada” said Legolas “Nana said that we had to go to bed”

“I don’t want to sleep. I’m too excited.” said Liriel, positively vibrating.

Thranduil looked between the two of them and raised an eyebrow. “And what makes you think that I would go against your naneth’s wishes”

The two then began to look sheepish as if they hadn’t really considered that he would side with their naneth. Which was rather ridiculous as Thranduil tended to side with her in most instances. They were just trying their luck.

“We’re 25 now Ada” said Liriel who was trying to do a serious face “We’re nearly full grown. We should have a later bedtime”

“Yes we should” echoed Legolas, sticking out his chest.

“Oh really now?” Thranduil heard shuffling behind the door and knew that Elinneth was there. Waiting for him to gather up the misbehaving elfings. “If you are as grown up as you say you are then I don’t see the need to bring you with us on our journey tomorrow. Surely, as grown ups, we wouldn’t need to supervise you and could simply leave you here”

“Nooooo” they both cried, looking devastated. 

“We want to go”

“Please ada”

“If you wish to still go then that means you have to be good,” he said

“We will, we will” 

“So you will go to bed when your naneth tells you to?” he said.

The pair of them looked downcast but conceded. The idea of being left at home while their parents went away was too much to bear. Eru forbid, they miss out on the fun.

Thranduil scooped them both up quickly. The suddenness of his movement drew shocked giggles out of his children. He threw one over each shoulder as he stood. Then he walked over to his door and slipped through. His children tried to wriggle free but it was to no avail. Elinneth was outside and laughed at what she saw. The mighty King Thranduil, wrangling two over excited elflings.

She motioned with her head down the hallway. Then she walked in that direction. He made to follow behind her. The earthen walls were illuminated by the orangey glow of the torches. They passed great tapestries, paintings and carvings as they made their way towards the royal chambers.

Their bedrooms were placed very close to his own chambers. They had an entire wing for just the royal family. Recently Legolas and Liriel had moved into separate rooms. Liriel stated that she did not want to be near ellons. While Legolas stated he did not wish to be near elleths either. Thranduil knew that it was simply a phase. In fact, most of the time he would find them in either one room or the other. It wasn’t often that they would wake up in their own rooms. So because of this Thranduil didn’t bother with separating them. He simply threw them onto the bed of whichever room was closest. Which turned out to be Legolas’s.

They bounced on the mattress as they landed. The bed was large enough for the two of them and could swallow up their tiny frames. He caught them as they attempted to wander off the edge. Elinneth then drew back the covers so that he could put them under. They settled themselves against the pillows. Burrowing down beneath the covers. Thankfully, they were already dressed for sleep so they didn’t need to change them.

“Now settle down you two” said Elinneth, tucking the blankets around the children.

“Can we have a story?” Legolas asked.

Elinneth looked at him, exasperated. It made him chuckle. “You can have one story” said Thranduil “But you must go straight to sleep once it is finished”

He recounted a wondrous tale of a prince and a princess who went on an amazing journey. They encountered strange beings and saved the day. Yet at the end of the story they both drifted off to sleep. Content in their adventures. 

Thankfully his own prince and princess drifted off while he told the tale.

His words slowly faded as he saw their eyes flitting shut. He leaned towards them and place a kiss on their brow. Bidding them goodnight. Then both he and Elinneth backed out of the room as quietly as they could. They wandered over to their own chambers, tired smiles on their faces.

He looked down at his wife. His queen. With such warmth in his eyes. He cradled her face in his hands. Even after thousands of years he was still infatuated by her. Amazed at her beauty and her heart.

He felt where their Fëar were joined as one. You could not tell where one Fëa ended and the other began. They were no longer two individuals. Rather they were two parts of one whole. It had been this way ever since they had married. All those years ago. Their souls joined just as their bodies had.

“I love you, melamin” he whispered.

“I love you too” her breath ghosted across his face.

He leaned down and pressed his lips against her own.

* * *

The Greenwood had suffered great loss over the past few hundreds of years. He had heard whispers from the realms of men that began to call his great kingdom, Mirkwood. The name made him shudder with disgust. He had shielded his children from the many horrors that had crept into the forest. For this reason he was taking a larger portion of armed guards with him than he would usually take on a journey. 

The reason for this journey was to visit Imladris. Lord Elrond had wished for their counsel and invited them to stay. It would be the first time his children would have ventured out of his Kingdom. They were excited beyond words. Often they would keep him busy accounting what they would do once they reached the last homely house. One of their goals was to seek out Lord Elrond’s own twin boys. Elladan and Elrohir. Even though they were quite a lot older than them, Legolas and Liriel believed that because they were twins they would get along. As some kind of kindred spirits.

They were in the stables readying their steeds. After an argument or two the children were allowed to ride their own horse. On previous travels they had to sit in front of either him or Elinneth. But they’re riding skills had really come along and they convinced him that they could ride alone.

“We are going to visit Imladris. Are you excited?” Elinneth said to the children.

They began jumping up and down as if to prove just how excited they were “Yes!”

Arradir, the stable master, approached the family with two horses in tow. One was silvery-grey in colour while the other was a rich brown. Liriel and Legolas’ horses. They were already saddled up and ready to go. The stirrups had been shortened so that their feet could reach them. Elinneth lifted Liriel onto her horse first, followed by Legolas. They settled themselves in their saddles, putting their feet in the stirrups. Once she was sure they would be okay she moved onto her own.

Thranduil patted the nose of his own steed. He would be riding a horse in the stead of his usual elk. His elk was more for riding into battle and would not fair as well for weeks on the road. Giving one last cursory glance around the stables, he climbed onto his horse in one swift motion. His cape swung out and landed gracefully behind him. The light bounced off of the silver circlet around his head. A light armour also covered his torso and his trusted sword lay at his hip. He may not be heading into battle but he was always prepared. Elinneth was not as armed as he was, though. She only wore her silver vambraces and kept a dagger in her boot.

They were taking the elven road to the west. His people had maintained the road as a safe haven through the Greatwood. As long as you did not stray from the path your journey would be free from danger.

He was taking a caravan of many elves with him. If they were to spend weeks on the road he preferred the greater numbers. Beings were less likely to attack a larger group after all. He wished to show his children the wonders of this world. But he was not blind to the darkness that lay within it. 

Thranduil urged his horse forwards. It was a great beast, worthy of carrying a King.He moved towards the front gate, where his people were waiting. Waiting for his signal. They could not leave without it. So he lifted up his right hand, palm out, before pushing it forward towards the path. They reacted immediately and began their journey down the path. 

His best warriors were to be placed at the front and at the rear of the caravan. The rest were interspersed through the middle. Anything who wished to attack them would sorely regret it.

* * *

It was their third day of riding and his children were already grating on his nerves. Was it too late to send the little miscreants back? Their excitement seemed to have blocked off their ears as well as their common sense. He felt like he was telling them off for something or other every 10 minutes. Could a king not catch a break?

For the hundredth time that day he saw Liriel edging her horse further and further away from them. She exuded an impatient energy. Trying to push her luck once more.

Thranduil sighed deeply, it took everything not to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Liriel” he drawled “We  _ told  _ you to stay close” he did not hide the irritation from his voice.

“It’s booring here. We’re going too slow” she moaned “I want to ride at the front. Please Ada”

She was really trying his patience “I said no. You are to stay with us”

Liriel stuck her bottom lip out into a pout. It was not the first time she had tried to use her sad face against him. She was seldom successful, though. Well that’s what he told himself anyway. Elinneth would beg to differ. Liriel had always been an ada’s girl.

Elinneth came up to ride next to him. Seeing the frustration clear on his face. He and Liriel were at a stalemate. He would not allow her to go off on her own but he also did not want her to be upset. Elinneth leaned closer so that his attention was on her.

“I’ll go with her. That way I can keep an eye on her” she said, coming to the rescue.

Liriel’s face lit up immediately “Thank you nana!”

Then, without anyone’s express permission, she urged her horse into a gallop. Speeding off along the path. Several riders in front had to quickly maneuver their horses out of the way, lest they be trampled.

“Liriel!” he seethed. She was definitely not acting to the standards befitting of a royal. He did not need his people thinking that he let his daughter run rampant.

He nearly chased after her but his wife held out her hand for him to stop. She gave him an exasperated look. Then she sighed deeply and gave chase to their misbehaving daughter. They would definitely be having words later. She would spend the rest of this trip having to share a horse with someone else. No more riding alone as it seems she clearly couldn’t be trusted. 

“I want to stay here with you ada” said Legolas to his right.

Thranduil turned to face him. Legolas’ face was smug, the look of someone who knew that someone else was in more trouble than them. He had been let off the hook for not behaving earlier in the day. “That is because you are smart, my boy”

* * *

Their progress was slow going as Thranduil wanted to stay with the bulk of his people. The sky darkened earlier in the day than they had been expecting. A dark cover of clouds covered the sky. Threatening to open up at any moment. They needed to make camp. Sooner rather than later. He sent one of his scouts to inform the soldiers at the front.

A dark feeling settled over Thranduil. Something felt...off. Like an itch he could not scratch. He could not tell where these feelings arose from. However, he had been a warrior long enough not to ignore them. 

Shadows stretched out across the landscape. Snuffing out the light in its path. Hiding Eru knows what in the ever increasing darkness.

“Legolas” he called out, not taking his eyes off the horizon “Stay with Gwaenir”

The soldier straightened up at the sound of his name and moved his horse closer to the prince. “I will look after him, my Lord”

“Ada where are you going?” Legolas asked, concern clear in his voice.

“Just stay here” he implored. Then he pushed his horse into a gallop, racing ahead to the front of the caravan.

He urged his horse faster, the wind whipping at his hair. Clumps of dirt and sod flew through the air as the beast carved a path through the earth. Thranduil did not know why he was being so hasty but he did not relinquish his speed.

An unearthly screech rang through the night.

Thranduil whipped his head in the direction of the sound. Then he turned his horse to follow the source of the sound. His heartbeat began to pick up with gusto. Ringing through his ears. He willed his heart to slow. Changing his feature into the cold mask he wore in battle. He could not let emotions cloud him.

The closer he got the more his senses could pick up. His hearing detected the scraping of metal on metal. The whooshing of an arrow slicing through the air. The sickening thud as a weapon made contact with a body. Screams hanging in the night.

His people were under attack.

Ice shot through his veins as he realised who else had been riding at the front. Elinneth. Liriel.

His sword was in his hand as he kicked the horse into action. A twig snapping to his right had him whipping around. A creature ran out of the shadows, armed to the teeth. Its body was covered in the skeletons of the people it had murdered. Sickly green skin was pulled tight across its face. It’s eyes were wild and craved the sight of blood. The wretched creature was an orc.

Thranduil reacted on instinct. Before the orc could attack his horse he pulled on the reins so that it reared up. One of the horses hooves clipped the orc’s jaw, sending it backwards. He brought his sword down with his other hand. It sliced through the filth’s neck like butter. Spraying black blood across his horses coat.

The creature was not alone and he could see more slinking through the shadows. They charged for him, some armed with bows and arrows. He instantly cleared his mind and set himself to the task of dispatching them. His sword whirled through the air. Slicing, blocking, stabbing. Years ago he may have done some fancy tricks. Just to prove how efficient he was at battle. But he was not a boy anymore. Lives were at stake and he could not risk anything for the sake of fancy footwork.

“ELINNETH” he screamed into the night. Begging for a reply. He could not hear her, he could not see her. She would surely have Liriel with her. Protecting her from the orcs. But his wife was only armed with a small dagger. That would not do much against a horde.

“My King!” he heard a soldier yell. The soldier came running into view, slicing the stomach of an orc in the process. “The flanked us, sire”

“How many” he said, forcing his horse to an uneasy stop.

“At least 200, my lord” His procession consisted of around 50 elves. Usually that would be plenty to dispatch of 200 orcs. But not all of them were warriors and they were currently spread too thin.

“Where is the queen, the princess?!” he tried to make his voice sound calm but panic had wrapped its burning hands around his throat.

“I.I do not know my lord” said the soldier, “They were riding due west when I last saw them. B.but that’s where the attack initiated.”

The sudden rush of horror clawed its way into his stomach. If he didn’t shut out the sensation it would consume him. His family needed him.

Thranduil disembarked from the horse and handed the reins to the soldier. “Ride! Got inform the others. We need as many warriors as possible up here”

The soldier nodded and took the horse without question. He turned the creature around and sped off in the direction that Thranduil had just come.

A black armoured hand reached out towards him in the dark. He barely looked as he sent his sword straight the the creatures gut. The gargling down of a death rattle was enough confirmation that the thing was dead. He gritted his teeth and forced the vile creature away from him. 

Darkness fell over the forest like a death shroud. The metallic tang of blood blended with the cloying scent of rot to create a miasma. Thranduil fought the sickness clawing its way up his throat and ran west. Killing all that came into his path. Charging onwards into battle, a rage descending upon him. He came across some of his people mid-battle. Beating back against the vile beings. Others he found had already been felled. Their Fëar no longer attached to their mortal form. He felt a war cry rip its way out when he saw them. It made him strike harder. Faster.

He reached the edge, where the orcs had thinned out. Most of them had charged further into the fray and left the edges clear. “ELINNETH. LIRIEL” He yelled their names into the night once more. This time he heard a reply.

A gargled gasp came from trees in front of him. 

His face went bone white as the feeling of dread crashed into him. Thranduil’s body carried him towards the sound almost mechanically. Scared that the shadows would reveal his worst nightmare.

The first thing that he saw was the body of a fallen horse. Its blood coated the ground in a thick puddle. Soaking into the earth below. The shaft of a black arrow was buried in the juncture of its neck. He had seen many dead horses on his race up here. But it was the colour of its coat that made him freeze. Sliver. His daughters horse.

His breath became a rasp in his throat as he frantically searched for any sign of her.

“Th. Thran. Duil” a waning voice whispered on the breeze. His wife’s.

His feet ran towards the sound. The trail of blood going in the same direction did not go unnoticed. He crashed his way through the trees. The sight before him sent a white hot dagger through his chest. The breath caught in his lungs and for a second it felt like he was suffocating.

The crumpled body of his wife lay before him. Her face was ashen pale and a sheen of sweat clung to her brow. Pain twisted in her eyes and tears fell unbidden. An orc knife protruded from the left side. A red stain bloomed as blood slowly trickled out of her body with each heart beat. 

Thranduil launched himself across the forest floor. His knees scraping the rocks. But he could not feel it. Her chest was barely rising and she was struggling to open her eyes. Shaking hands covered the wound. Blood slipped between his fingers as he applied pressure. A pained gasp escaped his wife as he attempted to stop the bleeding.

“HEALER” he yelled, his voice shaking like he’d never heard it do before. He did not know if any of his healers had even made it this far into the skirmish. They had been more towards the middle of the group.

A helpless sob broke free as his wife’s life dwindled by the second. If only he possessed any form of healing magic. Then she would have a chance. But he was useless, clinging onto her body.

Elinneth opened her eyes and levelled them at Thranduil. Then she began frantically pushing his hands away. “G.go..Lir.iel..sshe’s alone.” she gasped, Then she gritted her teeth, hard enough that she could break a tooth. “Find her now!” she cried, her final demand.

No no no no no. Liriel, his baby girl, was out there alone. Those creatures still stalked the night. Hunting for her. Baying for blood. He needed to find her. 

But he could not leave Elinneth. If she were to die when he was not there… it did not bare thinking about. He could not breath. It felt like the darkness had tied a noose around his neck that tightened with every second. His mind was torn in two. One side could not bare to part from his beloved wife but the other knew that she would never forgive him if he didn’t.

Thranduil shakily got to his feet. To leave her-like this, bloodied, beaten and dying- felt like the ultimate betrayal. But he had to. Her eyes were thankful as he turned and ran. It made him feel sick. She shouldn’t be thankful. Not for this. Not for leaving her in her greatest time of need.

He heard the sound of his soldiers and he directed them towards his wife. They obeyed without question. The noose loosened slightly knowing that she was not alone.

Branches whipped at him as he raced through the trees. His lungs felt black and blue with the pain it took just to bring in a breath. Time was slipping through his fingers like sand. Everything screamed that he would not be there in time. He would not be enough.

A scream reverberated on the wind. So scared and so impossibly young.

He was too late.

“Ada!” 

Thranduil flew through the forest. Faster than he’d ever ran before. His legs burned as he pushed them to their very limits. 

“Found you” mocked an orc.

He saw it. The orc’s back was to Thranduil. It stood, leering down at something far below it. With a roar, Thranduil shot forwards, his speed like an arrow careening from a bow. His sword pierced the creatures back before it could even react. It sliced through muscle and sinew. Wrenching the creatures putrid heart in two. Black blood gleamed on the edge of his blade. With clear abhorrence for the repugnant orc, he cast its body to the side.

He did not recognise her at first.

In her attempt to protect herself, her tiny form had curled up into a tight ball. She was so small. Impossibly so. All breath left him in a strangled gasp at the sight. Noose tightening once more.

He fell to his knees beside her. The hit of the ground shocked up his legs. But he did not care. She needed to know that he was here. Ada had found her. Ada could save her. He quickly gathered her in his arms. Cradling her tiny form to his chest. That was when he noticed the blood staining the front of her tunic. The shirt was almost red where it had once been blue. There was so much of it. Too much of it. She was such a small thing surely she could not lose this much blood.

“Ada’s here, Liriel. Stay with Ada” his voice was breaking just like his strength. Please don’t go. Don’t go where he could not follow. Mandos’ halls would have to wait for her. They could not have her yet. “Stay with Ada”

She was so scared. Her eyes tried desperately to find him but her vision was darkening. She tried to speak, her lips failing to form the words. The only sound she could produce was a wet cough as she spit up blood. Her chest barely rose as her breathing got so shallow.

Eyes finally found his. Just in time for the light to flicker out behind them. They now stared up at him unseeing. All the life they had once held was snuffed out in the space of a breath.

“No” it was barely above a whisper, “No, no, no. Liriel  _ please _ ” his voice broke on the last word and tears flowed freely down his cheeks. “ _ My little girl _ ”

He held her body close. His lips crushed to the top of her head as sobs hummed at the back of his throat. Then they shook his whole frame. Great, wracking sobs that burned his muscles as they ripped out of him. His world had shattered around him. The sharp bite of the shards dug into his heart. She couldn’t be dead. She was barely 25 years old. 

If only he had gotten there in time.

He did not hear the footsteps approach as he cried. “M. My lord, it’s your wife. She’s…”

His head shot up with a gasp. Elinneth. No. She couldn’t be gone too. He could not lose them both.

He was on his feet in an instant. Liriel’s body still cradled to his chest. His arms refused to put her down. The soldier behind him drew a horrified gasp when he turned around. Thranduil did not register it and simply began running in the direction of his wife. 

His speed was fast, even with the weight in his arms. He needed to get there. To be there. He saw a group of people come into sight. Almost there. Almost…

Thranduil barely reached his wife. Barrelling into the group surrounding her. Just in time for her to breathe her last breath.

He didn’t even have time to react when a torrent of pure agony tore through his body.

Pulling.

Tearing.

Burning.

Liriel slipped from his arms as he collapsed to the ground.

It wrenched apart every cell. 

A blade sawing him in two.

His Fëa.

His Fëa, he realised, was being torn asunder. His soul. His very being.

It was being pulled and torn. Threatening to uproot him.

And then, with one final wrench, half of his soul was severed.

An unholy scream bellowed out of him. So loud it could shake the trees. He had grabbed his chest during the ordeal. Trying to keep himself from falling apart. His nails had torn through the shirt and drew blood. 

Yet he did not feel it. That pain was nothing compared to the tattered edges of his soul.

Thranduil could no longer feel her. His Elinneth. The one whose soul he shared. Where he once felt her constant presence was an aching void. He saw his soul flying alone. Untethered. 

Where was she?

WHERE WAS SHE?

* * *

He had no idea how he came to be on the floor of this tent. One of his soldiers must have guided him to it but he could not recall any of it. All he saw was darkness. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. He was free-falling into an endless pit. Never to see the light of day. He was in his own personal hell. Drowning in it. Locked and buried so far down, no one could hope to reach him.

“She’s gone, where has she gone” he cried to himself.

“My Lord,” said a dark haired elf “She now resides in the halls of Mandos”

A twisted, violent rage swept through him. How dare they say such things when she was lost. How dare they speak as if they know. If she was in the halls of Mandos he would still be able to feel her. His soul would not be the decimated husk it had become. 

No his wife was not there.

He could not tell where she was.

“You.Are.Not.Listening!” he yelled through gritted teeth “She.is.not.there. She’s gone. I cannot feel her”

He did not see the fear in his people’s eyes. The looks of concern at his outburst. He didn’t notice anything except his own pain.

“Ada?” he barely heard the word.

“Come, my boy” said someone behind him “You should not see this”

* * *

It had taken several days before he could even recognise the world around him. His son had been kept safe, away from all the danger. Gwaenir had made sure of it. Not a hair on his head had been harmed. The only shred of light in this dark, dark time. His son had also seen him at his weakest. He saw the fear in his son’s eyes when he became somewhat coherent. The pain never left, it still stung like an open wound. But he slowly began to be able to think around it. To move. To drink. To eat.

Legolas had looked at him like he was a stranger. The strong and sure Adar he knew had been replaced by some wraith. He saw the hurt and pain written across his son’s face. It was part of the reason he had fought through the dense cloud in his mind.

Thranduil had nearly fell forward as he reached to embrace his son. They held onto each other like they were they only things clinging them to this life. He couldn’t stop the sobs that wracked his body. Legolas’ tears stained his shirt and the boy cried himself to sleep.

* * *

Their funerals were held as soon as they arrived back to his halls.

His whole kingdom mourned. He knew he had to hold himself together. To be a beacon of stability to his people in such dark times. But he could not do it. As soon as their bodies had been placed into the earth and the cairn of stones constructed around them, he had fled.

The songs and laments followed him. Like a ghost on the wind.

His feet carried him away. Far. Into the royal private gardens. He could not say what brought him here. Some kind of desperation. It urged him forwards, towards a wrought iron gate. Beyond it lay his daughters garden. When he had last seen it, it had been resplendent. Towering and beautiful.

Now all that remained was death. It reeked of decay. All the plants had shrivelled and died. Rotted from the inside out. None had survived. Leaving the garden as a desolate wasteland.

Just when he thought he could not fall any lower. This was the final knife in the heart. 

All he could do was stare. And stare. And stare.

As he gazed upon the destruction he began constructed a wall around his own heart. Of solid ice. If he did not he would surely wither away to nothing. The only way he would survive was if he closed his heart off from everything.

Where once happiness had bloomed in his eyes, now only coldness and anger lay.


End file.
